


A Comedy of Eros

by MsSchneeheide



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Shakespeare, Valentine's Day, and other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSchneeheide/pseuds/MsSchneeheide
Summary: A St Valentine's Day story in five acts - with a prologue. As 14th February gets nearer, characters meet and their lives intertwine while in a City of Love to celebrate (or escape) it.
Relationships: Blanca Flores & Dario "Diablo" Zuniga, Lorna Morello/Vince Muccio, Marisol "Flaca" Gonzales/Maritza Ramos, Piper Chapman/Alex Vause, Shani Abboud/Nicky Nichols
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Shakespeare, real life, and thank you "Xena: Warrior Princess" for the title and more.  
> Don't own XWP or OITNB, not even Shakespeare.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the Prologue spoils it all.  
> Then in Act I the story it told starts to unfold, we meet some of our characters, and move closer to our location.

_**Prologue** _

Six characters, not alike in eccentricity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From starting strangeness grow to new complicity,

Where imperfect knowledge arise desire keen.

From forth the misfired arrows of a certain bow

The pairs split up, their feathers all a-ruffled;

Whose misadventures caused by fatal blow

Do with their swift appearance Love leave puzzled.

The young meetings and the novel romance groove,

And the stain of its disruption on Valentine’s glory,

Which, but for Cupid’s intuition, nought could remove,

Is now the five acts’ business of our story;

The which if you with patient eyes now read,

What here’s unclear, will later find its heed.

* * *

**ACT I**

**Scene I**

_Somewhere between America and Europe, over international waters_

Love was in the air.

He was less than mid-flight on a _very_ long flight, now over the vast watery expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.

“Pff. Finally,” Neri leaned against the seat.

“Yeah,” Cal whispered back. “But this late it was impossible to find the optimal departure time for her circadian cycle.”

“Mh-m.”

The work assignment had come just a few days before. Four years since he had started and it was always like this, unpredictable and last-minute.

“Have you told Piper?”

“Not yet. Gonna contact her when we get there.”

Neri sighed. “Okay. I really hope this has nothing to do with her.”

“Yeah, me too... Hearing her with the ex that time was bad enough.”

Neri grimaced; she had not witnessed anything, luckily, but Cal’s tale had been vivid and scarring. She did not envy his job.

“Try not to think about it anymore,” she said. “I'm gonna sleep too. Don't wake me up till we're at least over the Alps.”

He nodded, they exchanged a peck over Goodall’s lightly snoring form between them, and she closed her eyes.

Cal took out his thermos cup from the bag under his seat, gestured to the flight attendant and got it filled with some barley coffee; he glanced at Neri - eyes still closed, _yay!_ \- it probably wasn't organic but they couldn't die of thirst. At least he had remembered the cup and was avoiding caffeine, kudos to him!, he gave himself a mental high-five.

“Thank you,” he murmured to the woman, who smiled.

Most passengers were asleep, his wife and their three-year old included.

He fiddled affectionately with the oversized bow keychain dangling from his belt; whoever had invented this scaling method for easy transport was a genius. The object was with him at all times, even though it wasn’t used nearly as much as common folks would think: only in extreme cases did he actually have to act and interfere with circumstances, nature, chemistry, fate, whatever it was.

“Would you like a refill?” the flight attendant motioned to his cup.

“No, thanks.”

A nap sounded great. Cal pocketed the keychain.

On a summer day of four and a half years before he had been contacted directly at his trailer by a strangely dressed figure (the current Hermes, he’d learn) and told he’d been chosen for the position; it took ages to realize it wasn’t a weed-induced dream.

Neri mumbled something in her sleep. She was still better at him at shooting, just like when she had started training him; that was how they had met and… well, it all happened quite quickly afterwards.

Yes, this was the ideal job: he sometimes had to see or hear things he’d have happily gone without, but alas - generally there was not much to do, good pay, lots of benefits, transfers were easy.

But not for babies, they had tried: the previous year the trip had been super fast, but Goodall had felt sick all the way to Paris and then the first two days there. Hence their decision to take a normal plane this time.

* * *

**Scene II**

_Paris, France_

_A hotel room_

“You could have said before.”

“Why? We finished up our business long ago here, and you would have only been pissed for longer,” Fahri smirked.

Alex paused her task to toss a bustier at him with an accompanying glare, then went back to packing.

“Hey!” he protested when the thing hit his nose. “This is a real weapon, girl.”

“Serves you well,” she chuckled. “I begged you to leave Paris for Valentine’s Day, and what d’you do? Tsk.”

He gave her back the dangerous piece of garment. “I bought us plane tickets!”

“Yes, to another ‘City of Love’! And it’s small, I bet it will be impossible to escape the ‘romantic’ atmosphere there.”

Alex put some more clothes in the suitcase with force.

“Don’t be a grinch. You’ll have to open your heart again one day,” he mocked her.

“Ha!” she threatened with the bustier. Sylvia had not been in the picture for almost a year now, but Alex was still reluctant to let herself go with women.

“Okay, fine. We’ll have work to do anyway, plenty of distractions from the finer things in life for you.”

“Mmh.” She zipped the bag closed, dubious. “Are you sure it would be a sound investment?”

“Seems so. Location in town’s good, the town itself is in a strategic position. But we’ll have to see for ourselves.”

“Right. But you gotta brief me on all the data you have before we get there.”

She had that small glint in her eyes, the entrepreneurial cogs in her mind had started working. He smiled. “‘Course. Now! You ready? Let’s go and flood the transalpine market with our magic stuff.”

They laughed, picked up the luggage and left the room.

* * *

**Scene III**

_Verona, Italy_

_A cannabis store_

The store was almost empty at that early hour; on the small side, dark spare furniture and soft lights created an intimate but stylish atmosphere.

“Dude! It’s later that people come to stock up for the evening.”

“A’right man, if you say so!” Cindy replied to her friend Martin, who worked there.

Flaca was perusing through the shelves. She was ambivalent about the place, it brought back bad high school memories... but sure this was just weed and not even real one and as long as it was for occasional fun…

“What’s this!?” Cindy indicated a weird-shaped pipe.

“This is new! I ordered it for my anniversary."

"What anniversary?"

"It's been a year since I came from Nigeria. Lemme show you how it works -”

"Good for you! Congrats," Flaca said. "But Cindy, we gotta go in a bit.”

“What if we get in a bit late?”

“Where you goin’?” Martin was preparing the pipe.

“The Club.”

“Haha still! Really!”

Flaca gave him the stink eye. “So what? We’re doin’ something nice!”

“Aand it gives us easy university credits, yo!” Cindy and Martin high-fived, and Flaca shook her head.

The two went back to chatting some.

Cindy didn’t take their volunteering very seriously, Flaca sometimes felt. Just like with her studies, she seemed very laid back about it all. How she had managed to get a scholarship to come here for this year, she would never know; when _she_ had to work so darn hard for it instead. But maybe one of her Jewish friends had found her a spot, who knew; they had contacts everywhere. Well, good for her.

The semester had just started and the Latina was already juggling back and forth between Media Arts and Philosophy lessons, her major and minor, respectively - but the system there was just completely different from back home.

_Vrr. Vrrr._

_Hava… Nagila Hava..._

The two girls looked at each other, and took out their phones.

“It's -”

“Lorna.”

Both went back to their messages.

“Yeah,” said Flaca.

Lorna: _Where R U??_

Lorna: _P-boss here and shes PISSED!!!_

“P-boss?” Cindy's eyebrows rose. “She ain’t the boss of me!”

“Why can’t she learn to spell right...” Flaca complained.

 _Vrrr. Vrrrrrr._ The phone in her hand buzzed again.

_Hava… Nagila Hava…_

Cindy kept on looking at the screen. “Mh. They gonna make me change my ringtone. Not much rejoicing to do with these two!”

“Would be about time,” Flaca commented, but frowned at the message.

_Piper: You are almost late._

“Girl, this ain't right. What she writing about, we ain't late yet!”

“But we're gonna be.”

“Well. She don't know it yet though! It's called prejudice, that's the thing.”

Flaca shrugged.

Cindy slammed her palm on the counter. “Fine. We gotta go man.”

“Aww why? Y’all just got here! And I just got this prepped up for you,” Martin showed the newly-filled pipe.

“Duty calls. Next time.”

Flaca picked up her bag. “I can just see her when we get in, with her crazy toothpaste ad smile...”

“And then all business-like, and, _Girls, I know you realize this event is of the utmost importance_ ,” Cindy started imitating one of their colleague’s inspirational speeches.

“Yeah,” her friend chuckled, “and, like, _it is such an honor to collaborate with the municipality and other renowned organizations…_ ”

“Absolutely! _We cannot let them down._ ”

“And we will not, my captain!”

They were still joking when they greeted Martin and left the place.

But they were actually pretty excited to be in the middle of this thing; it was kinda like in that film with the blondie, the one Flaca refused to admit she'd seen. Except for life being less of a stereotype of spaghetti and sunshine all the time there, and for hookups in a new land to be less romantic than she'd expected. Or such had been her experience, to that day.


	2. Act Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we get a glimpse of some preparations for The Day and we see more characters, some of whom meet and click.

**Scene I**

_Juliet Club_

“This is so beautiful,” sighed Lorna.

“What?” Cindy looked up from her stash of letters.

“Lorna!” Piper scolded.

The woman tried to hide the piece of paper she had been daydreaming over, without realizing she was commenting out loud.

“Give it back, please.”

“What?” she feigned indifference.

“Give it back!”

Lorna tried to play the innocent some more, but Piper just hovered over her desk unrelenting, open hand stretched out, waiting.

“Ooh, alright,” she surrendered, retrieved the letter from under the other ones and gave it to Piper, who just had to read the first line to know.

“Lorna, really?”

“Oh shit,” swore Flaca. “Not _again_.”

“I was just.... studying it, just to be prepared!”

Piper sighed, and put the object back to its rightful place: the lockbox. Lorna eyed it wistfully.

“You know there are copies if you need to consult it, but the original has to stay safe.”

“Like she ain't done a half dozen copies for herself too,” said Cindy, elbowing Flaca.

Lorna sulked. “Yes, but I just needed to get a feel of the original, you know, the actual paper he has used, the type of ink...”

“'Twas a squared paper sheet badly torn from a notebook, and probably a 30 cents Bic Cristal pen,” Flaca whispered not so quietly.

At this, Lorna sprung up from her chair. “Oh, you're just... horrible, insensitive brutes!” and she made for the door.

Piper tried to stop her. “Hey, where are you going?”

“To make myself a coffee!”

“Oh, could you make me one too?” asked Flaca.

“NO!” and _slam_ the door went.

...“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“Girls,” Piper started. “You know Lorna is very, erm, invested in this and -”

“No way, really? We hadn't noticed.”

Piper glared at Cindy, and she shut up.

Flaca put her letter to the side, and looked at them. “We don't want a repeat of the Christopher affair, like... it's not good for her y'know?”

Piper nodded. “Yes, we should definitely try to get her to see things in the right perspective. But let's just be a tad kinder about it mh?”

Mh, Cindy and Flaca assented.

Now they had only been in town for a few months, Piper working on her Ph.D in Comparative Literature and the others on a scholarship. Piper had been drawn to the Club by a general urge to be involved in as many extracurriculars as she could; Flaca had just thought it would be nice to help out people with insightful advice; and Cindy had simply followed her along.

So none of them was present or knew the others at the time - but they had all heard about the _Christopher affair_ from two years before, courtesy of _signora_ DeMarco.

The Juliet Club had existed for decades; it organized events but mainly answered to thousands of letters sent every year from people all over the world to 'Juliet' on their love stories, but not only, in all sorts of languages. Its volunteers were mostly students, several international ones who were there only temporarily, and a faithful core of middle-aged local women. And one of them was Anita DeMarco, who loved gossip.

Lorna had also been volunteering at the Club for a long time; she and her sister Francesca where American-born, but had come back to the land of their ancestors for an inheritance and then never left.

According to DeMarco, Lorna had started a private (absolutely against the rules!), and soon pretty unilateral correspondence with this guy who had written once, thought she was living a beautiful romantic love story, and it almost ended with him pressing charges for stalking.

“Good,” said Piper. “So we're just going to keep an eye on her when they meet, OK?”

“Fine.”

“Aye madam!” Cindy saluted.

This Vinnie boy must be a weirdo of his own kind, anyways, but Lorna already appeared quite enamoured with him.

He had written a very cute honest letter on his life as an adult living with his parents, Italian father and American mother, and his little brother Gino, his passion for Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and his longing to know and feel what love is, for someone to show him - which got him to end up as one of the winners of their annual “Cara Giulietta” contest.

“OK. I'm going to see if she's calmed down a bit. You go on with the new epistles,“ and Piper left the room.

Flaca and Cindy exchanged a look.

“Epistles?”

“Yay girl!”

They sniggered.

“Taylor Swift's the democratic bossy kind mh.”

“Sure is.”

“A'right,” Cindy sighed. “Now let's pretend to go on with our work, so Chapman will find us aall busy when she gets back.”

* * *

**Scene II**

_Around town_

They were strolling along _via_ Mazzini, the main shopping venue all covered with huge heart decorations and lights, having just left _piazza_ Bra with the Arena, the big Roman amphitheater, behind them.

It was easy to walk around the historical center, all contained as it was in the reverse U drawn by the river that passed through town. Pedestrian streets formed a maze, winding between houses and monuments left by the Romans, Venice and Austria during their rules over the millennia, from antiquity to the Renaissance to the present day.

“Darn but the streets around here are _narrow_ , ain't they?” Cal asked rhetorically to no one in particular, trying to make his way back to his wife and daughter through the crowd of tourists around him.

“Here you are;” Neri had stopped near a place with an open front and a chocolate fountain. “We are feeling like ice cream, whaddaya say?”

“Ice cream? It's a bit cold for that...” he shuddered at the thought.

“We are strong,” Goodall stated with finality.

“Right.”

Their empowering speeches since she was still in the womb had certainly worked on Goodall; Cal just wished someone had done at least an ounce of them when _he_ was a baby too, he might feel half as confident as his daughter by now.

“Come. It's local ingredients, I checked it out on TripAdvisor,” his wife assured.

Ookay then…

They chose their flavors and went on walking.

“Mh, this is good.” Cal’d gone for two scoops: a chocolatey sort of thing with hazelnuts called _bacio_ (kiss), and Recioto, a local red wine, sweet, intense, raisins-and-cherry-like.

“What time are we meeting Piper again?”

“In a couple of hours, she’s got a ‘thing’ tonight.” On the phone she had sounded pleasantly surprised to discover they were there ‘on holiday’. Of course she didn’t know about Cal's true job, neither did their parents; they mostly thought Neri was the breadwinner while he lazed around at home, or possibly still weren’t convinced he wasn’t involved in some not entirely legal business. He had tried to explain things as truthfully as possible saying he was doing some freelance emotional counseling gigs, but for some reason they didn’t seem to think that must be a real occupation.

“Hey dad, look there!” pointed Goodall.

“Mpfffh” and Neri suffocated a laugh.

Oh goodness. There in a shop window was a rather unflattering display of images of _him_ , well, of a kid posing as him in classic Cupid iconography, rosy cheeks, curly golden locks, diaper bow arrows fake wings and all - but this was a common occurrence Cal was used to by now. What was offensive in these photos here -it must be a camera shop- was not the gross oversimplification of his figure and role, but the subject they had chosen: a, how to put it, particularly _ugly_ baby.

“But WHY.” Cal was mortified.

“He must be the owner’s son, no other explanation.”

“Yeah.” And to think some people dared say there were no ugly kids. They had never seen this one clearly.

“Well I’ve seen the pics, you were a wrinkled little frog too.”

“Hey!”

“I didn’t see the pics!” Goodall cried.

“I’m showing you later,” her mom whispered conspiratorially. Cal frowned.

Suddenly something else dawned on Goodall. “Dad! Why did you take the cup? The cone is zero waste!”

“Oh right G, I forgot! - sorry! _Scusa_ -” he told the man he'd inadvertently bumped into.

“It's OK.”

“Wow, what a little monster!” Alex chuckled to her friend.

“Ssh!” Farhi shushed her, failing to hide his own mirth.

“What’s up there?” she gestured to the short queue under the tower they’d stopped by.

A girl a few feet away was cheerfully advertising the thing. “Discount price for couples!”

“Surprise surprise...” Alex shook her head.

There was a billboard explaining what it was all about. _Torre dei Lamberti. “_ It says there’s a great view of the city,” he cleared his throat. “And of the heart-shaped market down here! I hadn’t realized it was a heart.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Alex murmured; took his arm and moved towards the nearby stalls. “Come buy me a Prosecco or something, maybe it’ll make me forget.”

“OK grumpy cat.”

“I thought we were here for work,” - she pointed out as she took her glass of white.

“What’s the hurry? There’s always tomorrow for work. Live a little!”

“Oh, a’right,” they clinked glasses. “As long as _you_ pay!”

* * *

**Scene III**

_Outside the Auditorium, Università degli Studi_

Lorna smiled brightly when she saw Piper. “So did you see your brother? Is he good?”

They had just met out there, eager to enter as soon as they opened the doors.

“I did! He’s well. And his wife, and the little hippie.”

“The welder?”

“That’s the niece!” explained Flaca.

Lorna was confused: “The niece is a welder? I thought she was three.”

“In-law is a welder, niece’s the little one, they’re all hippies,” Flaca listed.

“Ooh okay. That’s nice,” Lorna said doubtfully.

“Shall we?” People were now filing into the Auditorium.

It was one of the town’s many Valentine’s events: a round table talk on tropes of love and their subversion in Shakespeare and modern reinterpretations.

Piper and Flaca had being drawn in by the topic itself, as well as the fact that the thing had been organized by two of their professors - a Shakespeare scholar, and a feminist Philosopher; Lorna had just tagged along.

Piper met the gaze of this big, sunglasses-wearing blonde woman with loads of golden bangles on her arms and grinned, waving at her and receiving a small nod in exchange.

“Kiss-ass,” murmured Flaca.

Piper was indignant. “What, no! She’s my tutor here, I’m just being friendly.”

“A’right, OK,” the other conceded, as they sat down.

Apart from members of academia, some very special guests would participate: an American theater company.

But it was no ordinary company: they specialized in classics but tended to twist them, just as they were an all-female group instead of Elizabethan times all-male ones. Most actresses were ex-cons, and they came in all shapes, colors, and varieties. They were called _The Lady King's Women Conpany_.

The stage was soon full of chairs, occupied by all those women; it was an impressive sight.

“ _Buonasera, signore e signori._ Good evening everyone.”

“Ain’t she one of your ‘tutor’’s lackeys?” asked Flaca.

“She’s one of her assistants!”

“Yeah, what I said.”

Flaca's eyes scanned through the array of people on stage. White faces, black girls, an Asian or two, and some Latinas; not bad.

They were still at the greetings part, and it was dragging on as an interpreter stopped here and there to translate for the audience.

“Excuse us if we might appear somewhat out of it at times,“ a bushy redhead started. “We just got here last night, and mixing jet lag and your wonderful Valpolicella wines today wasn’t our most brilliant idea.”

Some chuckles from the public.

Flaca observed her critically. “Is that why she’s got those bags under her eyes?”

“That’s Nicky Nichols, she’s a genius!” protested Piper.

“I know! Still. You don’t gotta be the picture of a _mad_ genius y’know.”

“She seems like a nice person,” Lorna considered.

Flaca shrugged. Most of her colleagues looked well-put together in their own ways, like that tall black woman with the gorgeous hair, the big white butch in a suit, or the small Latina with the winged liner. She had, hands on, the best makeup. The dress resembled Emma Stone’s green one in “La La Land”, only, in royal blue - wait did they do it in royal blue? Mh. This reminded her of her mom’s former 'business'. Oh well.

“So this was how it aall started,” Judy King explained. She had been the company’s first sponsor, still was their main one.

“Thank you Miss King. Now can we ask for some spoilers on what you’re going to perform for us in a few days?”

Judy King passed the microphone to her left, to a black girl.

“I don’t know, can you?” Tasha Jefferson burst into infectious laughter. “A’right, so. It’s two completely different plays you see. P, tell ‘em.”

From the other side of Judy King, Poussey Washington continued: “OK, so first there’s this _Romeo and Juliet_ rewriting, it’s less gloomy and a lot queerer too,” she beamed. “And then… Brook, you wanna go on?”

“Yes. And then a funny _pastiche_ of comedies and characters done our way of course, with our signature mix of matters of race, class, and gender. And religion.”

“Oh wow, it sounds just great! I sure won’t miss them.”

The suit-clad butch chimed in: “All the ladies are warmly invited!”; they cackled. Then she added as an afterthought that “Well, men can come too.”

The talk went on some more, tackling a variety of subjects.

At the end there was some time for a Q&A session, and of course Piper couldn’t not ask something.

As she was going on with her long-ass highbrow question on Russian fairy tales’ motifs in one of their previous productions, Flaca crossed her arms. _Showoff_ , she grumbled, while Lorna shushed her.

Reznikov was preparing to answer, and Flaca’s gaze slid through the others on stage, which were mostly directed their way obviously and fixed on Piper. But she met someone’s eyes: it was the Latina she had noticed before. Uh-oh, was her teardrop smudged? or did she have something on her face? She almost felt the need to check, but deflected by fixing some hair behind her ear. The other woman's lips turned up and cute dimples showed by her mouth.

“Thank you Miss Redznikov - Red, sorry,” the hostess corrected. “So, next one…”

Oh. Piper looked satisfied, her question had been answered evidently; but somehow Flaca had missed the whole thing.

_A little later_

“Cindy would be pissed if she saw us now.”

They were enjoying the buffet which followed the end of the talk. There were delicate canapés, tasty stuffed olives, fresh veggie skewers with cherry mozzarella, tomato and basil leaves, heavenly smelling _prosciutto crudo_ on crunchy breadsticks, and more.

“She could have come too,” Piper considered.

“Not her scene.”

Many people had stopped to take advantage of the refreshments. They were now in front of one of counters, helping themselves to another drink.

“Oh, there’s Tasha Jefferson with my tutor! I _have_ to ask her what she meant about Voldemort being Macbeth. If you’ll excuse me…”

“Sure, go. Catcha later,” Flaca waved off.

“Bye!” said Lorna.

They followed Piper with their eyes, and saw how she sneaked in the conversation of the professor and the actress. Suddenly they were interrupted by someone coming between them to reach for two flutes.

“Oh, sorry.”

Lorna turned; “It’s alright.”

“I was just trying to get some champagne for me and my lady,” she nodded at the olive skinned, wavy haired woman a few feet away.

“Oh! You’re from the company.”

“That I am, madams;" she smirked at them.

“It’s a pleasure, miss Nichols. I saw your Caliban on YouTube,” said Flaca.

“Oh really, thank you.”

“Miss, if you don’t mind…” Lorna intervened.

“Nicky, please.”

“Oh no, I can't!”

“Please, seriously.”

“OOK then. _Nicky_. So… you are a really nice person I'm sure, and very funny and smart too,” Nicky’s eyebrows rose “but I was thinking…”

“Lorna -” Flaca tried to stop her.

“You see, I am kind of an expert, and I can see you have a bit of a… situation with your hair here.”

“Oh shit,” Flaca murmured.

“So if you need some advice, I have a few ideas!” she assured enthusiastically.

Nicky paused. “Oh, erm… well, thank you kid - Lorna. You are kind of right y’know, this bush is the bane of my existence some days.”

Lorna nodded sympathetic.

Nicky handed the flute to Shani, who had finally approached them.

“So maybe you could join forces with Sophia, our hair stylist; she’s almost given up on me.”

“Oh no! Please! It’s a beautiful color, I’m sure we can come up with something.”

Flaca shook her head.

Nicky and Shani continued talking with Lorna, and brought her to the tall black woman - yes, it made sense that that would be Sophia.

“Hey sweetie. Whatcha doing here all alone?”

Flaca turned to see the big white butch.

“I love a tall fine specimen like you. Y’know I was really into tree-climbing as a kid.”

Flaca continued observing her perplexed, while Boo took two glasses and made to offer her one. “Mh. _Comprende?_ No English? Some _español_ maybe...”

Someone else approached them; it was the tiny Latina. “Boo, can’t you survive one night leaving women alone?”

“I don’t know honey, you see I’ve never tried. Wouldn’t want to risk it,” she wriggled her eyebrows.

Flaca had to smile, and Boo saw her. “Ha-ha! Busted.”

Maritza snatched one of the wines from Boo.

“Don’t be jealous, you know you’d be my first choice if you ever said yes.”

“Dream on.”

“Well, then you won’t mind me and this nice lady continuing to warm up to each other now…”

“I don’t think this is what’s happening here,” she regarded Flaca, who was enjoying the scene.

“Why don’t we let my _signora_ decide,” Boo started to lift a hand towards Flaca’s arm, but Maritza swatted it away before it could touch her. “Hey!”

Maritza’s cheeks colored, and Flaca was kinda taken aback too.

“It’s… not cool Boo, you know,” she defended.

“Okay, okay…” Boo squinted at her questioningly, then at Flaca. “I’ll leave you to it then. It was _almost_ a pleasure, my mysterious lady.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your work Miss Black.”

“Oh. She speaks! Just Boo for you, whenever you want,” she half bowed, and retreated.

The small Latina gulped down her wine, and started awkwardly:

“Listen, I’m sorry if I interrupted… whatever,” she gestured. “I just thought you didn’t look comfortable and -”

Flaca smiled. “Thank you. I was just a bit surprised at first, but she’s fun.”

“Oh... Alright, listen, I can call her back if you want and -”

“No!” exclaimed Flaca. “I mean, she was fun and all, and I do like her work, but… yeah, that’s about it.”

Oh. Maritza nodded. “Okay.”

“And you?” Flaca nudged.

Maritza looked at her again. “And me, what?”

“You’re with the company, but I’ve seen lots of YouTube videos and I don’t remember you. I know I couldn’t forget your face, I mean… well,” she diverted her gaze for a second.

Maritza smirked. “Well. I’m new.” That made sense. “Did you like the videos?”

Flaca replied enthusiastically. “Oh yes!” and went on to explain what she loved the most about them.

“I’m glad. Y’know I’m new at acting, but I’ve been handling our social media for some time now,” the other said slily.

“Whaat? No way!” This was awesome.

It wasn’t just impeccable taste in makeup and style they had in common then, but also, evidently, a certain talent for media. The two went on talking about their passions and occupations for some time, without really noticing it passing, between their chatter and giggles. And when the night was dwindling down and their friends were ready to leave, they separated with a mutual agreement to meet again, since the company would be in town for ten days.

* * *

**Scene IV**

_An osteria_

“Why did we have to come to this dump?” Lorna lamented.

“It’s not a dump!” Flaca was indignant.

“It’s… picturesque,” Piper commented diplomatically.

The bar stood in a minor _piazza_ ; it was small, loud, and appeared less than pristine, but boosted the clear advantage of being right in front of a _cornetteria_ , a croissant place open all night, and not far from the university area; also, the local police rarely bothered to pass by and check for drunk and disorderly, and the residents were used to the noise. Or they must be all old and deaf.

“They do lots of events here y’know, like… live music and _tertulias_ and shit!” Flaca added.

Oh. That was new. “ _Tertulias_ , really? You have to tell me when they do those!” Piper would not miss the opportunity for literary gatherings in such a characteristic ambience.

“OK,” she nodded.

“So, I met some very nice people tonight,” Lorna started.

“You did?” Piper smiled, all teeth.

“There were Nicky of course, and her fiancée Shani - the Egyptian you know," she added softly as if telling a secret. “Then this Sophia hairdresser woman from the company, and this Aleida woman who does makeup; they know their job, I’m telling you.”

Flaca tuned it. “Aleida does makeup too? I thought she only acted. But then, of course she does…”

“Yes, they all have several roles right?” Lorna asked.

“Oh yes, they have decided to abolish the rigid division of labor; it’s a new structure they are experimenting and -”

“New? Sound pretty Marxist to me.”

“Well,” Piper conceded, “Redznikov might have had a hand in this.”

“So are they all commies?” Lorna frowned.

“I’m pretty sure ‘Boo’ Black was wearing a Canali suit so, no.”

“Flaca. Who was that girl you spent all the time with?”

“Who? Oh, Maritza.” Flaca blushed a bit. “She does their social media, and some makeup too, and has started acting.”

“Ah-ah,” Lorna was considering her with suspicious interest. Flaca felt her face growing warmer by the second.

“Mh.” Piper intervened. “Well _I_ had an enlightening conversation with Jefferson and Abdullah. Then Soso, the Scottish-Japanese girl, joined in; she _does_ talk a lot though,” she considered.

“ _She_ does, doesn’t she,” Flaca exchanged a glance with Lorna.

“Oh look, there’s Cindy!” exclaimed Lorna, seeing their friend come back from the restroom.

“I knew she’d be here.”

“Hey girls! Come to our table!” she called them to join her and her friends in a corner.

“I’ll order for us,” Piper offered.

“Thank you!”

She looked around; it was quite late, but things seemed to be in full motion here, and luckily it wasn’t all just younger university kids. The bartender finally turned her way, and she asked for some reds.

“Hey,” a raspy voice came from her left. She turned to find a black-haired woman with enticing glasses leaning against the counter. “I just happened to hear. Are you American?” she asked.

“Hello,” she found herself smiling in an uncharacteristic shy way. “Yes; was my accent that bad?”

The other woman laughed. What a low, rich sound. “No, sorry. And you can still speak Italian at least!”

“Well, just a little,” Piper admitted.

A man approached, and grabbed one of the glasses that had been deposited near them, without Piper even noticing.

“Fahri…”

“It’s OK,” he tried the wine. “I’m going out for a phone call, you enjoy yourself here,” he winked and threw a sideway glance at Piper, before going back out the door.

“Sorry, you were with someone…” Piper started.

“ _I_ was the one to chat you up,” tall dark and beautiful said with a chuckle. Beautiful? Well, she _was_ , objectively speaking. Look at those lips sipping the red. Fu..dge, she was supposed to bring it back to her friends; well they could just move and get their own drinks for once.

“So is he your -” she started.

“Partner,” the other woman offered.

“- Oh. Right,” Piper nodded. “Partner, as in…”

“ _Business_ partner,” she smirked.

“ _Business_ partner! Wonderful! I mean it must be nice to work with someone you get along with, it is patent you two get along; or – of course it’s just an assumption but-”

“I’m Alex,” she cut her off with a touch to her wrist on the counter. “What’s your name?”

“Piper,” she lit up stupidly, as if in a trance.

“Hey, where’s our…oh, you finished it off,” Flaca eyed the empty glasses, opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when she had a better look at them. “Ookay y’know, no probs,” she patted the blonde's shoulder and motioned to the bartender to order. “ _Una bottiglia di Custoza per favore._ We’re there if you need us!”

And she left for the table, the guy soon following with bottle and glasses.

Alex turned to her interrogatively. “She’s your friend?”

“Yes, almost a colleague too actually,” Piper specified, still not sure why Flaca had left her off the hook so easily. She saw her say something to Lorna, then the latter looked her way and waved, to which she answered in kind.

“Really,” Alex’s incredible vocal cords brought her back.

“Yeah. And what is this business of yours?” she enquired.

“I used to work for an international drug cartel, but we’ve transitioned to being a hundred percent law-abiding citizens. We own a series of legal light organic cannabis stores.”

Piper gaped.

Alex’s eyes crinkled. She cracked up.

“Ah-” after a couple of dumbfounded seconds, Piper joined her.

Who was this woman?

She had no idea, but she hadn’t felt this captivated in… forever.

Fahri peeked inside. Alex was still engrossed in conversation with that blondie; he squinted - had not heard her laugh that much in ages. He considered for a moment; oh well, with the fun they were having they could afford paying his drink too. Then he sent her a quick text, knowing full well she wouldn’t hear it with the noise around her and how taken she looked; she’d find it later, when she’d finally remember he existed.

Fahri: _Going back to the hotel. Enjoy your night Al._

He smirked, left the glass on the nearest table, and went out.

Fahri: _Oh. And put that rack to good use, someone’s looking appreciative._


	3. Act Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we follow the ongoing preparations of the Conpany, and the Club; two old friends meet; and in a final theatrical scene, errors are made and chaos ensues.

**Scene I**

_Teatro Nuovo_

"One, two, three… one, two… can you hear me from there?"

 _Clang, stomp…_ "ouch!" - furniture being moved.

The _Lady King's Women_ were hard at work.

Their first performance would be _Romeo and Juliet?_ ; they'd repeat it for a couple of nights, and leave their dope original comedy for the 14th, Valentine's Day.

 _Bzzz… BZZZZZZZ…_ "Turn off that darn microphone!"

Daya and Maria were setting the backdrops, Gina was doing a last check on lights and sounds, and a few others were busy repeating their lines.

"What do you think?" Gloria asked, looking at the hustle and bustle all around them.

Boo and Yoga passed them by, carrying a large waterbed; they accidentally bumped into Janae, who turned with a scary expression.

"I am deeply sorry, my fair maiden," Boo stopped to say. "I would be happy to show you how much, and make of this offending object my accomplice in the sweet task."

Janae made a face, and Jones tugged at the waterbed. "Come Boo, the maiden passes this time," and they went on.

"Everything seems to proceed regularly," Red answered her colleague.

"Volume's OK now!" Nicky yelled to Gina.

On some seats in the first rows, some other women were discussing.

"I have compiled a comprehensive list of the material needed at each location," Brook handed a sheet to Judy King.

"Yes, and Gina and Nicky said they already found good spots for the loudspeakers and all their sh… equipment," Taystee added.

The previous day the company had visited the medieval center and sites of the Shakespearean tragedy – the Capulet's House with the balcony, Romeo's residence, and Juliet's tomb of course; they would set a very special series of events there.

"A'right girls. We gotta plan this very well," their patron stressed and gave the papers to Poussey, as the others assented. "The round table was a success, we gotta ride the wave!"

Things had been going well for them in New York and around the State, but this was next level and it had the potential to really make or break them. Their first tour outside the US. They had several dates in festivals and theaters after this, in Venice, then Milan, France, Germany, and the Netherlands.

The favorable welcome they had received the other day seemed auspicious, but they had to stay focused and keep up the good work on marketing and PR, too.

Judy's friend Bill and Tamika were working on that remotely, from home, but some of the company members were onto it there, too.

"What did the Mayor's Office say?" Alison asked, glancing at Maritza's computer from where, with a quick keyboard trick, a window immediately disappeared.

She rolled her eyes.

"He probably won't make it, got lots of prior commitments, yadda yadda" Maritza answered, retrieving the email.

"Right. Fears his party will stone him if he gets too friendly with people like us maybe," Alison shook her head.

"Mh-m," made Maritza noncommittally, clicking away.

The other crossed her arms. "Were you still checking the likes?"

"What? No!" she denied straight away. Of _course_ she had not been doing that again, she had checked the reactions to their round table posts just ten minutes ago. The African-American woman stared at her. Only, well... "Just the most prominent and active profiles who engaged with us, to see how we can get more visibility," she reasoned.

Alison was still unconvinced, but let it go. "Fine!," she conceded. "I'm taking a break."

"A'right."

Maritza waited a minute, then went back to the job.

She had noticed several clapping hands, biceps and hugging emojis from the same nickname under their photos and short videos of the other night, and a simple click brought her to the Facebook account of a cute familiar face, which made her smile; there wasn't much that wasn't private though, darn.

After a moment of thought the Latina typed something else on the keys, and went on with her quest.

* * *

**Scene II**

_Juliet Club_

Pat.

Pat-pat.

Pat-pat- _pat_.

TUM!

"Oh! Norma!" Flaca almost fell from her chair. The older woman had been insistently patting on her shoulders for several moments now, and in the end had to hit her on her head with the roll of papers to catch her attention.

She had been lost in contemplation of the tickets on her desk, which she scurried to put away.

" _Sì_ _?_ " she asked.

Norma motioned to the clock, and gave her the papers. Right, it was almost time.

Piper was nowhere to be seen, having gone out, _again_ , with a droopy smile and texting at inhuman speed, her nose buried in the phone.

"OK, okay," Flaca reassured her. She was basically ready.

That day was a very important one for the Club; they had skipped uni and been preparing since the morning, but just before lunch some unexpected visitors had come.

Maritza and her colleague Daya had passed by to leave some free tickets for their play, "so we can keep on helping each other out mh?" she had said, referring to how they'd started mutually following each other and adding links on their various social media accounts - well, the _Conpany_ 's and the Club's, which Flaca had helped restyle (they'd also become friends on their personal profiles, but that didn't need to be addressed right now).

"Mh? _Help each other out_?" Cindy perked up, finding the wording and her friend's face extremely entertaining.

Daya's pout morphed to a smirk too, from where she was standing by some letter quotes in frames on the wall.

Flaca's cheeks warmed up.

"We're talking marketing here," Maritza pursed her lips.

"A'right," Cindy faked going back to her task.

The tall Latina stood up. "You want to have a look around?" she offered.

"Yes!" Maritza lit up.

"And you, Daya?" Flaca asked.

"I'm good, thanks," she waved off, and sent her friend a you-owe-me glance.

Maritza glared at her, and turned to hook arms with Flaca. "Show me everything," she smiled.

They left for a tour of the other small rooms, leaving behind a smirking Daya and a Cindy about to burst into laughter.

" _Everything_ , mh?" she jibed. "Sister, you gotta tell me what the _heck_ this was _now_."

.

.

.

"Were you still checking the hotness of the little jalapeño in that dirty mind of yours?" Cindy asked.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Flaca replied aloof, collecting her documents. "Ain't you gotta prepare too anyway?"

"I got all my shit ready, don't fret."

"Girls!" Piper entered the room. "They are here."

And so they were.

Two of the three winners of their "Cara Giulietta" contest had arrived. They would be officially awarded their prize on Valentine's in a public ceremony, but before that there was some welcoming and buttering up to do; their president Mr Caputo had already greeted them warmly, now it was their turn to play the gracious hostesses and make sure they enjoyed their stay in town.

Some chaos ensued, as several people appeared following Piper's lead.

"So this is our -"

"Hello, good afternoon. Good afternoon, it's a pleasure to meet you," a black woman started shaking hands back and forth, with serious intent and energy.

"...Suzanne Warren," Piper concluded.

An older white woman with ice blue eyes, a blonde and a young man were there too.

"I'm Sue. Oh, it's short for Suzie which is short for Suzanne," she explained wringing her hands, then closing them in fists and forcing them by her sides. "As Miss Chapman said," she nodded with a toothy grin.

"It's… great to meet you Suzanne," Cindy replied.

"Yes, we loved your letter," Flaca added.

She colored up. "Thank you."

"Well, and this is…" Piper started again.

"Oh yes! This is my mom Pam, and this is my sister Grace, and this is her fiancée Brad," Suzanne explained.

"Hello dears," Pam glowed at them all.

So this was the famous family. Suzanne Warren had written a passionate, wacky, unique letter full of metaphors and hidden quotations from the midst of which one thing shined bright: the incredible love that must bind these people.

One glance at them now was enough to testify to it: the warmth just seeped from them if they looked at each other, seemed to become tangible and visible whenever they inadvertently touched a familiar arm, or rested on a beloved shoulder.

"So these are two more of our volunteers," Piper continued.

"Cindy here," the African-American boomed, and they shook hands again.

"And I'm Flaca," the other added.

That made Suzanne pause and frown. "Is that a real name?"

"Suzanne," Grace whispered.

"Oh. Sorry!" and she greeted her again.

"It's Marisol, but, yeah," Flaca admitted.

"Oh, okay."

"Excellent!" Piper cheered. "So, Cindy will show you around."

Suzanne turned to her expectantly.

"A'right Warren family! Let's go, shall we? Bye guys," and off they went.

_Exeunt Cindy, Brad, and the Warrens_

"Oh fuck," Flaca muttered, and dropped on a chair.

"Ssh!" Piper admonished, looking around. "But, yeah, that's an accurate summary."

They enjoyed the silence for a second.

"Hey, what'd you do yesterday when you disappe…"

"Your guest was still with Mr Caputo and Anita by the way," Piper interrupted, and the other's eyebrows shot up.

Flaca was the one who had written the reply and so, among the group of ‘Juliet’s secretaries’, she had been the one assigned to that case.

"Oh, that's fine."

"Girls!" the door burst open again.

It was Lorna.

"I'm not late, am I? I was afraid I was. ... he's not gone already?" she started to panic.

"No Lorna, he's coming a bit later," Piper reassured her.

"Ah! Good."

It was unnecessary to ask what had taken her so long, as she was clearly more dolled up than usual: freshly done hair, shiny makeup and a knit-trimmed denim dress that would have been more appropriate for the summer than February weather.

"It suits you," Flaca complimented.

"Why, thank you!" Lorna beamed, touching up on her hair.

"Yes, well, the neckline is on the low side but…" Piper said.

"Oh, it's nothing you didn't see on your new _friend_ last night I'm sure," the half Italian answered nonplussed.

"What…! Lorna!" Piper gasped - but it's not as if she had a better comeback for that.

" _Prego, prego…_ " they could hear from the corridor. " _Ecco qua! Ragazze… Bianca e Dario,_ " DeMarco materialized with their other guests. "Bye, bye," she nodded awkwardly and left them to it, 'cause she knew zero English.

To a stranger, the appearance of the couple might have been startling: the man could have easily crashed them with a single hand, and worrying tattoos emerged from his clothes; but somehow the woman looked fiercer still with her dark wild animal eyes, slight frame notwithstanding.

Yet, well, they knew better, as they'd read about the couple's beautiful story: their struggles in a new country, their meeting, the unjust imprisonment of Blanca and her release, how both had almost been deported but then managed to become US citizens and were now considering the next steps together.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you," Piper spoke.

"Your story was _so_ romantic!" Lorna sighed.

"It is great that you could both come," Flaca told them sincerely.

"Thank you. _Mi Diablo y yo_ , we're so happy to be here."

"Yeah," he confirmed with his kind smile, "it's our first trip away _juntos_." They exchanged a warm glance.

"We're getting hitched in Venice in two weeks!" Blanca grinned excitedly.

"What, during the Carnival! This is so awesome!" Flaca exclaimed.

"He asked yesterday, under Juliet's balcony," the new fiancée disclosed.

"It's going to be kind of a fake Sicilian marriage, but anyway," Diablo added. “We found some people to do this as a group.”

"Yes, _U spusalizio_ , I've heard of those! How interesting!" Piper assented.

"Oh Mr Diablo, you are the most chivalrous man. Congratulations, both of you!" Lorna was ecstatic.

When more pleasantries were out of the way, Flaca went with her charges for their little tour and to talk about the ceremony; while leaving she caught a glimpseof Lorna who was studying her face in a pocket mirror, _again_ , and exchanged a nod with Piper. Someone _had_ to keep watch over her.

_Exeunt Flaca, Blanca, and Diablo_

Not two minutes later, the brunette was in a frenzy of papers tidying, blush touching up, time checking, and aimless moving left and right.

Piper was starting to get dizzy.

"Lorna, could you -"

But luckily there was no chance for things to escalate, as in that moment on the small room's door, which Diablo had unknowingly closed behind him, a _knock-knock_ was heard.

" _Sì?_ ” Lorna's high-pitched voice squeaked.

"Hello…"

Two men came in. One large, sumo-wrestler like and the other smaller, nervous-looking, overly elegant; it wasn’t hard to understand which had to be Vincent Muccio.

Time stood still as his eyes passed over the blonde’s, crossed the brunette’s, and stopped.

He was wearing a black tuxedo, with a white crisp shirt underneath, a crimson red vest and matching bow tie and pocket square. Vinnie looked soft and strong at the same time; he was so handsome.

She must be Lorna, the one who had answered the letter; he could tell immediately. With her lovely dress and hopeful smile, bathed in the sunlight coming in from the nearby window, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Birdsongs, unseasonly as they’d be, seemed to drift in from the back alley.

Piper and the sumo wrestler exchanged a glance; their friends may be lost in a world of their own, but for them this prolonged heavily charged silence was getting awkward.

The letter-writers made to take a step towards each other -

“So!” Piper chirped. “You must be Vincent.”

… and thus the bubble was burst.

Chapman took charge and proper introductions were made; and then, though reluctant to let those two go, she had to greet them, for many other preparations for the ceremony awaited her attention. But not before striking a silent agreement with sumo-guy once more – his thoughts must be aligned with hers in slight concern for his friend, for he nodded significantly and followed Vinnie and Lorna, evidently resigned to playing _chaperone_.

* * *

**Scene III**

_On the streets, and at the store_

"Soso was starting to grate on my nerves," Boo complained to Nicky.

"I didn't wanna say it, but yeah, when she plays director she can get really annoying."

Any mishap made the Scottish-Japanese really fastidious, and there were usually plenty during rehearsals.

"Hopefully her girl P will help her chill," added Maritza.

"Yeah," Daya nodded. "Hell I needed some time off from Aleida too."

Finally, their destination. Nicky had found the place on Google Maps, and they'd easily walked there from the theater after being left off the hook, their scenes done for the day.

" _Buongiorno_... Hello," she greeted as they entered, after a peep from the shop windows. "Anyone here?"

"Comin'!" a voice was heard from the back.

"What a fine establishment," Boo nodded approvingly.

Daya was instantly drawn to a cookie display, and Maritza starting studying the bottles of shampoo and body wash on a shelf.

"Here I am," a young man appeared from the back door.

"Hi," started Nicky... but then immediately stopped. Another figure had peeked out from behind the black guy – incredibly enough, a very familiar figure.

"Oh my God," Alex murmured.

"Hooly 2008 US women's soccer team... am I stoned already?" Nicky was thunderstruck, and made to sniff around. "Is there something in the air here?"

Alex laughed. "It's really you. Nicky Nichols!"

"Hell... Vause?"

"C'mere!" she gestured, and they hugged.

The other women snooped interested, as well as Martin and Fahri, who had just come out of the back office too.

 _Cough cough_ \- Boo cleared her throat.

"Nichols, care to introduce your charming friend to us?"

"Aye, aye," Nicky condescended. "Ladies, and Boo. This tall beauty is Alex Vause. We met in another life, when I was on a path of rebellion and self-destruction, to which she occasionally provided."

"Ooh, you mean she -" Maritza cried.

"Yes," Nicky said curtly, with an eloquent glance. "Well, alas, all that's in the past."

Alex smiled. "You are well. Turned a new leaf mh?"

"That I have. A few years in the loving care of the State and a great bunch of hard-ass women made certain I did," she explained.

"Ouch. I see. All's well that ends well though, I'm glad."

"Ah, a woman by our own hearts," Boo sighed.

"So, what brings you here, to _fair Verona_?" asked Nicky.

And thus it was that the two old friends got acquainted once more.

Nicky talked of the company and her girl and newfound family, and Alex recounted of how she too had left her former ways and started a new cleaner life, also thanks to Fahri's support.

"Y'know, I didn't think I'd ever see the day you'd tie your existence to a man. No offense, you must be a great guy," Nicky backtracked.

Fahri laughed. "None taken. I don't think I will either," he admitted.

"Yeah, we're just business buddies, and well, buddies," Alex explained amused.

"Aah, now I recognize you."

"So," Boo saw her chance there, "is there a lucky Mrs Vause somewhere?"

Daya and Maritza shook their heads, but Alex chuckled good-humoredly.

"There may be one in the making. How I wish we didn't have adjoining rooms," Fahri lamented.

"Oh, shush!" his partner warned.

"I understand," Boo accepted her fate philosophically. “Still, if it doesn't turn out well for you, remember there's some fish here who'd happily swim in your sea."

* * *

**Scene IV**

_Around town_

"Move! We're losing the _blanquitas_!”

"It's the darn cobblestones! They're happier alone anyway," Maritza indicated, spotting Nicky and Shani walking super close, now far ahead.

“If you hadn't put on 7-inch heels maybe,” Daya suggested.

Maritza huffed.

“You hoping to climb a beanstalk with them, mh?” Maria laughed. Daya had asked her to come too and explained, 'cause she didn't wanna fifth-wheel the whole evening, thank you very much.

“Shut up! I'm a _woman_ and we don't let ourselves go. Left or right now?” they'd officially lost their colleagues. “Why don't they have straight streets!”

“This is Europe, chica. Left I think,” Maria was focused on her phone.

“...Aww, check that.”

They'd walked up the street, through a passage under a tower, and ended up on a stone arch bridge, _Ponte Pietra_ ; the waters below calm on one side and gushing on rocks on the other, the rushing sound adding to the scene – in the middle stood Nicky and Shani, leaning against the parapet.

The castle where they were headed overlooked them on the hill on the opposite bank, the moon above them was almost full, and they were kissing.

“Who knew Nicky'd be this romantic,” Maria was perplexed.

“Love makes people do weird things,” Maritza commented.

Daya fleered.

“Hey, stop it! Let's go.” And they proceeded to ruin the moment.

XXX

_Up at Castel San Pietro_

The Warrens had just left. They'd met for dinner, since it would get too late for Suzanne's sleeping habits otherwise.

“It was fun though, she's a trip. _And_ they offered,” Cindy added, noisily sucking up her mojito through the straw.

“What? You were supposed to be the host!” Flaca exclaimed.

“They insisted! Didn't wanna be rude y'know.” Her friend stared. “Plus, it's less expenses for the Club.”

“Mh.”

They went on sipping. Of the remaining guests they had to entertain for the evening, Vinnie had arrived early and was already deep in conversation with Lorna, and Flaca's charges had yet to make an appearance.

She had also invited a certain someone from the _Conpany_ , “just to make them see the sights!” she had explained to a mocking Cindy - “Yeah, I got an idea which sights you talking about sis.” Well that was just slander; and anyway Piper had brought along Elvira too, so what. It was called being friendly.

XXX

_Later on in the evening..._

Some _very_ friendly socializing was going on.

Lorna and Vinnie, Nicky and Shani were all huddled up in pairs - "It was _cold_!" enjoying the view from above: of the nearby hills to the right, the Alps on the background, and the city below them, the Roman theater and the dark U-shape of the river where warm yellow lights from bridges and buildings were reflected, the many bell towers peppering the center – and one could imagine the imposing round shape of the Arena, or the strange fortified brick and marble Castelvecchio Bridge, where the horizon opened to the south-west plain.

Inside, others were chatting, drinking, and dancing.

"I get why you wanted company," Maria said.

"Yeah, imagine being alone with those two," Daya snickered. They were gossiping, openly watching their colleague and her new… friend; not that they would notice anything right now anyway.

"I wanna live here!" Maritza grabbed another free bite of pizza Margherita from the counter, making Flaca laugh. "Come!" she took her hand and dragged the taller, black-clad woman back to dancing.

"We match," she realized just now.

"What?"

"I said we match!" Flaca repeated, bending slightly to get closer and gesturing at the other's short onyx dress and leather jacket, and her own skin-tight dark jeans and lace shirt.

"We sure do," Maritza replied, circling her neck with her arms.

"They getting pretty cozy mh," Cindy observed.

"Looks like it," Alex nodded; she had been introduced earlier on, and now that Piper was busy with her brother she was chilling with her friends. She couldn't wait to get cozy with the blonde herself, so tempting all lively and rosy-cheeked from the heat in the room and the wine - maybe for something else too, Alex mused meeting her ogling gaze.

Their lips automatically lifted at the corners when regarding each other.

 _Mh_ , thought Cal. _Is_ that _what had her 'terribly engaged, I'm_ so _sorry!' these days?_

But there appeared to be loads of good potential for love around tonight, from several people there; he absentmindedly patted his keychain.

"Keep an eye on Goodall for a sec, gotta go to the ladies'," Neri told her husband. They had been there for dinner, crossed Pipes by chance, but now the time had really come for them - and their offspring - to leave.

"Yeah, sure," he said.

_Exit Neri_

He scratched his little one's hair, G was more of a handful than usual when tired. She leaned her forehead against his legs, clutching his trousers.

"So you don't know how long you're staying?" Piper asked.

"Nope! A few more days for sure," Cal still had no inkling on the job he was supposed to do here. Everything was going pretty well from all the flirting he'd witnessed just that night.

"Two Proseccos, please."

" _E altri due per me_."

Vinnie and Nicky, ever the gentlemen, had offered their ladies to get refills; they were still on the terrace, talking.

Blanca and Diablo were having their own fun moving to the music, stuck up close and grinning, alive with the undercurrent between them.

"Hey, where's Goodall?"

"Mh?" At that Piper quit her staring contest with Alex. "You were saying?"

Cal checked left and right, worried. "Darn, she was here like two seconds ago!"

His sister, now fully present, started turning too.

"She was! I just had in my peripheral vision and…"

"Did you?" Cal's brows rose.

"I'm sorry, isn't she _your_ daughter?"

He got on casting about through heads and limbs; "OK, okay! Let's just find her before Neri comes back."

"Oh, yes," Piper got a tad paler at her in-law's mention too; she quickly stood up from her stool - _ouch!_ a splinter or something -, ready for action.

Insensitive to their rising panic, most of the present were just continuing enjoying their night.

Diablo had his hands on Blanca's moving hips and she was stroking his biceps.

Vinnie and Nicky had asked for a tray for their flutes, and Daya and Maria had joined in the dancing.

"Aww Flac, did you just pinch my ass?" Maritza bit her lip teasingly. "There's still kids around y'know."

"What?" Flaca's eyes widened. "NO!"

Maritza's narrowed. "No?"

"No, I swear! I'd never -"

"Oh. I see," the smaller woman frowned. "I'm sorry it's so _hideous_ to you."

"Wha… No! I love i… I, I mean I'd really like…" she fumbled, "I mean, but with all the people -"

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you'd prefer to go back to that flat-ass bartender chick from before mh?" she accused.

"Wait, I don't know what you're talking abo…"

"I saw you get that drink all smiley y'know."

"But… I was being _polite_ , y'know common human courtesy!" Flaca protested.

"Oh 'cause _I_ don't know what _polite_ is right," Maritza fired back.

A few feet away, Piper and Cal were now frantic.

Alex saw that and left Cindy near the Latinas, to approach her blonde companion.

"Hey Pipes, what's up?" she gently touched her shoulder.

"What?" Piper jerked back.

"You're distressed, what happened?"

"Oh really, _distressed_ …" Piper snapped. "How kind of you to notice, between a chat with your new friends and a wink at some bimbo."

Alex was puzzled. "What are you saying?" and following her gaze she saw the tiny Latina who'd been flirting up the giant, but now they seemed to be arguing as well.

"Please, so _not_ my type," she stated firmly and recalled, "I just had something in my eye."

"Yes, sure. Listen I don't have time for this," and Piper left her there to go back to searching for her niece.

Outside the night was calm, and Lorna and Shani and other people here and there were breathing in the crisp air.

"Ow! Was that a mosquito?"

"A mosquito? It's not possible,” Lorna reflected, “it's not the right season.”

"What's taking them so long?"

"No idea. Let's get back in mh? It's too cold anyway."

"Yes," Shani assented. "Let's… hey, what's that?" she pointed out.

"Ooh! Sweetie!" exclaimed Lorna.

They entered the room, Shani holding one of Goodall's hands - she was clutching a fiery looking huntress doll in the other.

" _Grazie_ ," Vinnie was saying to the bartender, who had just handed him the tray. "Tiffany," he saw from her nametag and half smiled.

She smiled back, revealing perfect white shiny teeth.

But what Lorna saw was red.

"It's like this, then?" she was in his face in a moment, fuming. "I was all waiting out and… so stupid."

"Lorna, what…" Vinnie frowned.

"Well you know what, enjoy your evening, _you two_ ," she took one of the glasses and threw its content on his face and shirt, and stormed off.

_Exit Lorna_

He was stunned.

"Wow. Temperamental girlfriend ah?" Tiffany asked, handing him a napkin.

"I… I honestly have no idea," he gaped, taking it without thinking.

Meanwhile, Shani had brought the child back to her father.

"OMG, thank you so much," he was so relieved. "What were you doing little scoundrel?" and he hugged her tight.

"Nothing,” she was the portrait of innocence.

Just then Neri returned from the toilet.

"Sorry there was a queue. Everything fine here?"

Cal and Piper exchanged a glance. "Sure! We ready to go?"

"Yes, it's kinda late for us, right G?" she picked up her daughter.

"OK, Pipes…" Cal prepared to go, patted on his pocket, patted again, felt for something… an absence. His lids flashed down - _oh_ , the keychain had fallen by his feet. How come? He frowned. He'd have to buy a new more secure one. "We'll meet tomorrow or the day after, right?"

"Excellent!" she confirmed. "Have a good night family."

_Exeunt Cal, Neri, and Goodall_

Piper zoomed back from the trio to Alex; she was standing by the counter, with Nichols.

“One minute we were alright, then she went to talk to her brother, and I got there when she looked distraught, and she went batshit,” Alex vented.

“Y'know how women are, gotta love 'em, but they can sure drive you crazy,” Nicky touched her arm in support.

“So this is what had you busy mh?” Shani's voice put a smile on Nicky's face.

“Hey babe. I was tryin' to cheer up Vause here, her girl's a weird one.”

“I wonder why. Maybe she doesn't appreciate your cheering up, knowing your history,” Shani replied drily.

“What?” Nicky was sincerely surprised. “Don't be irrational, I told you it just happened once, ages ago.” Alex gasped incredulous, and Nicky shrugged. She didn't like hiding secrets from her girlfriend, and besides, they could talk about everything.

“What happened just once?” Piper intervened; she had gotten nearer and caught only the last part of the conversation.

“Oh hell,” Alex whispered, meeting Nicky's eyes briefly.

The latter opened her mouth to damage control, but Piper prevented it.

“Ah-ah, I see how it is! You just couldn't keep it in your pants for ten minutes?” she was already off on a tangent. “First that Hispanic doll, now Nichols...”

Alex laughed, shocked. “What are you saying Pipes?”

“It's Piper! Don't patronize me.”

“Er, listen Chapman,” Nicky started, “it's all a misunderstanding. Stretch here was just sayin' -”

“Don't make it worse Nichols. I know of your reputation,” Piper went to speak to the Egyptian girl at her side, “sorry Shani, no offense.”

“None taken, she _did_ have a reputation,” Shani said, then frowned. “I thought it was all in the past though.”

“And it is!” Nicky claimed. “You know that since I met you – _ouch_! You okay Vause?” she held up Alex, who had practically fallen into her, pushed from behind; she turned: it was Maritza, striding to the other side of the room, Flaca on her heels.

“OMG you're literally falling into her arms, _and_ checking out someone else at the same time,” Piper shook her head. “I'm so done.”

Shani regarded her. “Yes, me too.”

“What...”

“Wait!”

“Enjoy your evening,” Piper cut them off, Shani glowered at Nicky sternly, and in a flash they were leaving.

“Unholy Land, sorry pal, gotta go,” Nicky blindly patted Alex's back, and was quick to follow the women scorned.

_Exeunt Piper, Shani, and Nicky_

Alex stood frozen for a minute, still bewildered. She didn't get it; why did she always have to fall for the crazy girl?

She sat down on a stool, next to that guy she'd met a couple of hours before, when the night had seemed so young and promising – Vin something. When had it all gone downhill? she wondered, and with a sigh took one of the glasses in front of him, and gulped it down.

Meanwhile Cindy, Daya, and Maria were chilling on the sofas, audience to the various scenes.

“Girls, I don't know what's happening tonight but it's hella interesting,” Cindy munched on a cherry from her Mai Tai. First she'd seen Lorna leave in a rush, then Chapman and Cleopatra with her fellow Jew, and now...

“This is messier than one of our comedies,” Maria agreed.

...now the little jalapeño was headed their way fierce-faced, Flaca chasing flustered.

“I'm leaving, give me my purse,” Maritza demanded to Daya.

She raised an eyebrow, but complied.

“Mari,” the tall Latina tried again.

“Don't 'Mari' me,” she spit out.

“But -”

“Shut up now,” she stabbed her chest repeatedly with her index, accusingly. “You've babbled enough.”

If her friend had been a cartoon character smoke would have surely been coming out of her ears, Daya could just picture it in her mind.

Flaca's words and reasonings had been useless against the other's uncomprehensible assault. “Will you just...” she plead one last time.

Maritza only glared, “Bye,” to her friends, and was off.

_Exit Maritza_

Daya and Maria looked at each other with some concern. Maritza had no sense of direction at her best, and now they knew she had drunk some and was all worked up; Aleida wouldn't be happy if they found her in a ditch tomorrow.

“Mh.”

“Well, we've got an early day, and a lotta work tomorrow.”

“Yes,” they nodded.

“It's been a... pleasure and all, right?”

“Rright...?” Cindy said, interrogative.

“Yeah. Sorry Morticia,” Maria patted Flaca's shoulder.

“OK...” she frowned.

“Bye girls! See you maybe,” the last two _Conpany_ members greeted, and they were on their way too.

_Exeunt Daya and Maria_

Amidst all this Blanca and Diablo had gone on with their own evening, oblivious to the rest of the world and their worries.

“Hey!” Blanca exclaimed, joining Cindy and Flaca in the corner where they'd switched to beers, trying to make sense of all that had occurred.

“We're having such fun! Thank you, really. It's been a great night girls.”


	4. Act Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where everyone is having a bad day, which only gets worse; but in the end, it is clear that something is amiss.

**Scene I**

_Juliet Club_

It had been a bad Thursday for the Club ladies.

Luckily Piper, after hours of work at the uni, just had to go in briefly to finalize some arrangements for the following day; as did her colleagues.

“Cynthia, could you pass me that schedule, please?” she demanded haughtily.

The black woman's head lashed up and she let out a growl. It was no secret she hated her given name, and using it like that was just a low blow; precisely what Piper had been going for.

“Here,” Cindy said, moving the papers to her end of the desk. “It ain't my fault your girlfriend was there y'know,” she added.

Piper gave a start, hand going up to adjust the scarf around her neck. “There is no girlfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah... so much for tryna be helpful. _For no good deed shalt go unpunished_ , as the prophet preached!”

Just then their two friends came in. Flaca's eyes narrowed; “Which prophet was that?”

“Oh, one or the other,” Cindy brushed it off, then had a better look at the newcomers' long faces. “ _Oy vey_ ,” she lamented; the emo army had not been dismantled yet from...

_The previous day_

“You are merrier than usual Morticia,” had been her first words at seeing Flaca with more makeup than usual on, liner extra dark and a particularly sepulchral shade of purple lipstick. They'd met at the university cafeteria for lunch, together with Piper.

The other ordered a sandwich and gave her the finger.

“Rude,” she mumbled. “OK, anyway. What time are we meeting tonight?”

Flaca stared at her like a madwoman.

“Come off it, we got free tickets! When this gonna happen again, ha?”

A shrug.

“Might be your chance to make up with the little hottie. I bet she was just PMSing last night.”

“Wha... That's terribly sexist!” Piper protested.

“Why? PMS _is_ a thing,” she replied nonchalant as they sat down.

“Mh.” Well that was true.

“Also,” _nom-nom_ as Cindy chomped on her food, “Chapman -”

“Could you _please_ refrain from talking with your mouth full?” Piper hissed. “There's people around y'know.”

Flaca tsked.

 _Chom_... “A'right, a'right,” Cindy raised her hands, and gulped down the mouthful of fries. “So I was saying, Chapman, could be interesting for your research too, right?”

“Well. It _is_ somewhat relevant,” she had to admit. “But...” she looked out at the grass and the faculty buildings beyond. After careful pondering she had reached the conclusion that there was probably nothing between Alex and Flaca's new friend; on Nichols the jury was still out. It was her studies, though; she couldn't let herself be deterred by such trivial matters. Moreover... she peeked to her left – Flaca was intently picking at her food.

Ooh fine, this would be her good deed of the month. “OK, let's go,” Piper conceded.

“Yay girl!” Cindy boomed.

“Have fun,” muttered Flaca.

“You're coming too,” the blonde stated conclusively.

“Wha... no thanks.”

“What you gotta do?” Cindy sassed.

“Study.”

“Your exams just finished.”

“I like to stay ahead.”

Cindy almost choked on a sip of coke. “Since when?”

“Come,” Piper nudged her. “You really wanted to see it yesterday.”

“Yeah, you wanted to see _loads_ of it yesterday,” Cindy mocked.

Flaca snorted.

“Shush,” Piper said, and addressed her other friend again; “You loved the round table.”

A faint eyeroll.

Yes! She could see she was about to cave. “It's gonna be fun, you'll see.”

.

.

.

And fun it was, for an act or three.

Lorna joined them; she hadn't needed much convincing, and after her workday at the shoe shop she'd just had the time to go home, shower and change, to meet her colleagues at the theater.

The plot twists were enjoyable, as well as the performance: Mercutio-Nichols and Tybalt-Shani's verbal and physical sparring were particularly realistic and believable, Piper observed. She almost felt guilty about it. Then the various additional subplots produced quite a bit of laughter as well, like the hinted at affair between the tiny Latina substitute Nurse and the big butchy Lady Capulet.

Flaca was having a good evening too, her smiles revealed.

“This is dope, yo! Better than the original,” Cindy commented after the second act.

“Not hard, Juliet's not thirteen here. And then that's just so booring,” Flaca seconded her.

Lorna gaped. “But it's so romantic! They have to fight against everything, and it's a classic and... and it's our club!”

“Yes, well, doesn't mean it's a good story.”

Piper opened her mouth to elucidate the tragedy's iconic status and how Romeo was a well-rounded character and... when she saw someone a few boxes away from their almost central one. Darn. Luckily Lorna had not seen him; yet. The lights went off, and the play started again.

But it was unavoidable, and at the following short break Lorna spotted Vinnie too; that put a damper on her mood.

Then at the end they crossed paths in the foyer and began bickering.

She couldn't do much, as she had the misfortune of meeting a face she had not expected to see herself: Alex was there.

“Piper,” her partner Fahri had discreetly moved a little way away. “You didn't answer to my messages today.”

Yeah, that was true. Alex had sent a grand total of three texts, and they didn't even sound that apologetic: asking if she was OK, and _what was the matter yesterday_ and if they could talk... tsk. She could do so much better. They started arguing...

_Back to the present_

Piper remembered it all in very high definition.

So they had started arguing – of _course_ she wasn't jealous, why would she be jealous? - and somehow ended up at Alex's hotel, again, in a much more heated repeat of the other night. Biting and scratching and... else, had been very satisfying, she mused, trying to find a more comfortable position on the chair; but she still felt angry at the other woman. And just a tiny bit ashamed at her own weakness.

“Your depressed-assedness making me depressed too, sisters,” Cindy complained. “You lucky your good friend Tova got an idea to make it aall better!”

They just looked at her.

“You trust me?”

More deadpan expressions.

“Oh, come on girls! Yesterday was a series of unfortunate events.”

Piper could feel an impeding headache nagging some parts of her brain. “Does it involve alcohol?” Flaca asked.

“Even better!”

“What's better?”

“Come, children, and I'll show you some magic!”

Lorna made a face. “Sorry, Cindy, but _I_ 'm not even a lesbian. No offense girls,” she told the others.

“I'm not -” Piper needed to clarify.

“Eww,” made Cindy. “I love y'all guys, but noope, thanks. I'm talking 'bout fun with friends, no lousy women _or_ men involved today.”

“Mh.”

“I don't know.”

“I mean I...”

“Pfft, come on. It's not as if you have something better to do.”

Well. Piper chanced a glance at her phone. No new messages after this morning; she had left the hotel room in a hurry while Alex was still asleep, and later had received the shortest text.

Alex: _Piper?_

She had been taking long to try and mentally word an answer that would convey everything she wanted to say, eloquently but concisely, sweetly yet with some tang, being bold and not too overt at the same time – with _Alex_ as an incipit– when another message had come.

Alex: _I'm not going to beg. You know where to find me._

For some reason, that had crushed all the sweetness out of her and pissed her off. She wasn't going to beg? Excellent, _she_ certainly wouldn't resort to begging either.

“OK, lead the way.”

* * *

**Scene II**

_Around town_

It was her! The woman of his dreams was hurrying somewhere on the street; yes, it was definitely her.

His friend followed the same line of sight and made to grab Vin's arm, but he got out of his stupor and began moving.

"Stop, wasn't yesterday enough?"

"This sighting gotta be destiny! I can't let her go," he started a half jog.

"Oh man," the other one sighed, and went too.

XXX

What had brought him out and there? Part the strange feeling he’d had since two nights before when they’d got back to the hotel, part boredom, part a hunch - he knew to trust those by now.

The bow was resting around his neck transformed into a pendant, and guiding him like a compass.

'Twas clear something was bound to happen, in fact, something had already happened probably; his sensations after the restaurant, and then again last night – it had made him wake up all of a sudden – were sure signs.

Cal went on. This might totally be why he was on this business trip.

* * *

**Scene III**

_Teatro Nuovo_

It had been a bad Thursday for the _Conpany_ ladies.

They were swamped with work between preps for that night's play and tomorrow's; plus, who knew why, some of them were more in a mood than average.

“Take this, honey,” Red said, giving Nicky her favorite back pain relief cream.

“Thanks ma',” she pocketed it with a half smile, and made to continue on her way.

“I got it, man,” Boo slapped her shoulder while passing by, easily picked up the trunk she had been trying to move and went on to Gina.

“Ouch,” she rubbed the offended part, and watched them, receiving a thumbs up from the light and sound tech.

“Come, I'll put the balm on for you,” Red offered, and they moved to one of the dressing rooms.

They crossed Janae and Shani, but the first shook her head at her and the Egyptian girl just turned and hurried away.

“She's still mad at you, mh?” Red asked, helping her girl lift up the sweatshirt and setting to apply the thing.

“Yeah.” She had been banned from her own bed and had to crash on the sofa in Boo's room for the last two nights, dammit; Shani could be very stubborn.

“Are you sure you didn't do anything?”

Nicky sighed at the cold sensation on her back. “Positive, ma'. I told you how it went, I was upfront from the beginning on how I met Alex and that _one_ single time, er, stuff occurred. We were always just friends really, it's nothing like Shani and I.”

“I know my dear,” Red finished up with a nod. “She'll come round, don't worry.”

“Mh.”

“But just in case, why don't you try the spare waterbed here for tonight? It's not the worst.”

Two rooms to the right, Gloria was being subject to Aleida and Maritza's latest experiment; she played Juliet's father Capulet and they had decided she needed a restyling.

“I look like a _maricón_ ,” she eyed her new makeup critically.

“Good, that's the point.” Their Capulet wasn't the straightest arrow in the quiver, but at least he and his lady could act as each other's beards.

“We'll touch it up before the play,” Aleida instructed.

“STOP!” Maritza yelled, seeing Gloria was feeling for her fake super long eyelashes. “Don't do anything!”

'Capulet' froze. “OK! Calm down ha?”

“Mh.”

Gloria observed her colleagues for a moment while they were tidying up their equipment. “You alright mami?”

No answer.

She exchanged a glance with Aleida. They had both seen the scene and overheard most of it...

_The previous night, after the play_

_Romeo and Juliet?_ had been a success. Loud claps and cheers had greeted their performance, and they couldn't be more satisfied.

After rearranging the stage a bit so there wouldn't be too much to do for the morrow and getting back into civilian clothes, the actresses left the theater in small groups.

Outside a few die-hard enthusiasts had stopped to dissect the show, and possibly to have another look at them; Poussey and Taystee for instance had been stopped by an eager black woman with crazy eyes and a crazier hairdo, and they were heard talking animatedly about scripts and time jumps.

Maritza was walking past them with Aleida and Daya, Gloria and Maria not far behind, when she felt the same thing she had at curtain call – and yes, just like then, she met eyes. Flaca's eyes. Flaca's warm kind eyes, attached to her sweet face with that stupid smile on it. Darn it.

Just like then, she deflected; now she would have also moved, but was detained.

“Maritza!” she called.

Daya turned and grabbed her elbow. “Hey, d'you see? It's...”

“Who is it?” Aleida asked, interested.

“Nothing, it's...”

“Maritza,” she was here. “Hi.”

Darn.

“Hello,” Aleida put her hands on her hips and looked her up and down, “And you are -”

“Good evening ladies,” oh of course, there was also the large Minnie Mouse-haired woman. “If we could move this on,” and she was gesturing and hinting at Daya to leave them alone, with about zero subtlety.

“Yeah, yeah,” her traitorous friend agreed, dragging Aleida with her; they went on, as well as Maria and Gloria, but she could see that they were still kinda watching.

Not that this tall bean seemed to care.

“Hi,” she repeated with an uncertain smile. Stretched her hand out... oh.

“Are these flowers?”

Well, duh. It was obvious they were.

“Irises. For you.”

Maritza gave a small smile back. “I love blue.”

“I know, you told me.”

Aww. Gosh... She took the lovely bunch.

“Is this your apology?” she whispered.

Flaca frowned. “What – no! It's my congratulations for the play, I loved it, and for, like, admiration...”

She knit her brows. “It's not an apology?”

“No, it's for the play and all... Besides, I don't think I have anything to apologize for,” Flaca added.

“Wha... seriously. What about bodyshaming me for example.”

“Bodysha... I did the _opposite_ of bodyshaming, I was being respectful of you!”

Maritza crossed her arms, bunch of flowers getting quite constricted between them.

“Well what gave you the impression I wanted to be respected last night?”

“But...” Flaca blushed. “I, I mean -”

“If you hadn't been distracted by other people's _ass_ ets, maybe you would have noticed.”

“Ooh, not _that_ again! You're paranoid, I told you it wa...”

“Paranoid? Great! Now I'm also paranoid,” Maritza brandished the flowers accusingly. “You know what, you can go _a la mierda_.”

Flaca could just shake her head. “Jesus, you're mad girl.”

“And take these stupid fucking irises with you,” she made to push them into her hands again, but thought better; “No, actually, why don't you take them to your flat-ass friend from the other night!” and she threw them to the ground with force, making the other jerk back in surprise.

“Mari,” she raised her hands helplessly.

“I told you, don't 'Mari' me,” and _click-clack-click-clack_ her irritated heels made, as she stomped away.

“That went well,” Cindy commented as she joined a still flabbergasted Flaca. “For about twenty seconds.”

_Back to the present_

Gloria had gathered some intel from other sources too, and formed her own opinions on the events; Ramos was very hot-tempered sometimes, and this poor person had by mistake brought this out it seemed, even though she herself had looked generally quite alright from a quick glance.

“Maybe your friend will come tonight,” Gloria suggested. “I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding.”

Maritza's ears pricked up.

“Pfft,” Aleida dissented. “If the overgrown bean ain't gonna appreciate your _culo_ as it deserves, she just stupid and you can tell her to got f...”

“Hello my ladies,” Boo chose the perfect moment to drop in. “May I...”

“NO,” Maritza interrupted. “Not you too, now.” She picked up her purse; “Listen, thank you, but tell Daya and Maria to stop gossiping about me for once and get a life!” and out she went.

The three remaining women regarded each other.

“Excuse me my lady Lord Capulet, Nurse...” Boo said. “I can't leave a damsel in distress,” and she followed her, leaving the older Latinas to their own devices.

The theater had a bar, and it had been kept open while they were there working; which was proving a sound business decision, given the amount of drinks some of the _Conpany_ members consumed.

It was there that Boo caught Maritza again; she was sitting on a stool, a glass of dark liquid already in front of her – and Nicky was by her side, in a similar condition. Ah, these kids. Couldn't make it on their own.

“My noble Lord Mercutio, and my beloved substitute Nurse,” she commenced, putting her hands on their shoulders. “This sweet nectar is not the solution to your problems! Alas, it will obfuscate your minds (and we still have work to do later on today) and leave you unhappy – come the morrow.”

They just ignored her. “I propose a better remedy to ease your weary souls. Accompany me, and you shall find out.”

A huff.

“Oh, come on guys. I need a break.”

Nicky looked at her. “Mh. 'kay,” she gave up. “Half an hour tops!”

“That's all I'm asking for” sheassured, waiting.

Maritza finished her drink. “A'right. But take off that awful wig first, you almost look like a woman.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It's... wrong.”

“I couldn't agree more!” and Boo was glad to dismiss her Lady Capulet costume.

* * *

**Scene IV**

_At the cannabis store_

_Cough cough._ Maritza gave it back quickly.

“Woo! This is strong man!” Nicky exclaimed.

Martin smirked. “I told you it’s good stuff.”

“You sure it’s still the legal one?” Alex regarded the pipe suspicious.

“Positive! It’s my friend Curtis grows it himself. Just relaxes you like chamomile tea.”

Alex and Fahri’s negotiations were bearing their fruits and they’d probably buy a share of the business. Now Vause was in the back sampling some special new mix to maybe sell; she’d met her old friend Nichols and colleagues by chance, and invited them to join in.

“Good. Lemme take another drag,” Nicky said. “We’re here to chill after all.” Maritza passed the kind of hookah object back, and she inserted her mouthpiece again.

Boo and Fahri were in the store area, trading stories about their former jobs and just chatting.

“Then when I woke up from the coma after my old mate Aydin tried to kill me, I started to consider a career change,” he finished the tale.

“Ah, wise choice,” Boo nodded, flipping through the perfumes near the counter.

“Yeah.”

“Bet it took some time.”

“Sure did,” he was studying the range of teas. “But in the end Alex and I managed to make our peace with the boss, and be free.”

“I wasn’t that smart, didn’t get out when I should have. Oh well, it was a good job before it got me to prison,” she shrugged.

Checked the time - “Hope they’ve relaxed enough by now, we should go soon.”

She opened her mouth to call her friends, when… the door dinged and opened, which made them both turn. _Darn. Holy f***ing shit_ , her baby blues widened.

“Oh,” she immediately recovered. “Good afternoon, my lovely ladies.”

Tall taco, Italian doll, American psycho and a sort of black Minnie Mouse had just made their entrance. She had seen the scene last night, and heard the Latinas gossip about their fiasco of an outing of the day before; this was _not_ ideal.

"Hello…?" the black woman said.

The other three were surprised, but greeted her nonetheless.

"And Mr… Fahri, was it?" blondie asked the man, who looked embarrassed.

"I, yes, Miss Chapman."

Something finally dawned on Cindy. "You were on stage!" she grimaced, "But dressed as a woman."

She bowed and confessed. "Aye. They make me go in drag sometimes."

Some faint laughter was heard from the back; this caught everyone's attention, and Fahri inhaled.

Time to avert a potential disaster.

"My dear Miss Gonzales," Boo had to think fast, "would you do me the honor of accompanying me outside? There is something I would very much like to show you."

Flaca hesitated. "Miss Black, I -"

"Oh I am not propositioning you, rest assured," she got nearer and hooked their arms, trying to pull her to the door. "Unless you want me to, of course."

"But wha…"

"Boo, what's -" Nicky just had to appear right then, "- this noise…" she trailed off, noticing Chapman, who glared back. Uhm. What was that?

"Miss Nichols," her brow furrowed. "What a surprise."

"Er, Miss Chapman," Nicky fumbled, flashing an alarmed glance at Boo and Fahri. "Yes, I…"

"Nicky!" Alex and Maritza emerged from the back door too, and Martin.

"Oh!" Piper was taken aback. "You are here too," her eyes became slits, "and _in there_. With _them_."

"Pipes. Hi."

Maritza zeroed in on Flaca.

Cindy, Lorna, and Fahri were all watching the proceedings in slight alarm.

Boo knew she must have missed an episode or two, but she got the gist of the story; and though she was normally all for a catfight, this did not look like it would be the good kind.

"Are you stalking me?" Maritza had immediately got to Gonzales' face.

"Excuse me?" she scoffed incredulous.

"I've had many stalkers during the years," the other said flippantly.

"Yeah, sure," Flaca rolled her eyes. "Sorry to disappoint you, but no, I'm not here to stalk you."

Cindy had taken a greenish cookie from the jar on the counter. "This suspence's killing me man," she whispered.

Martin didn't understand a thing.

Fahri, Lorna and Boo started to move towards one or the other of the two couples, from which metaphorical and almost literal sparks were beginning to fly.

But Lorna was soon distracted - for the door dinged again in opening, and Vinnie turned up on the threshold.

"Vinnie?" she asked hotly.

"Lorna!" he advanced in her direction. "We gotta talk…"

A big Asian-looking guy entered too, huffing and puffing, and leant against the counter to catch his breath.

"Vin -"

"Oh wow. More draaama," Cindy munched furiously on another cookie.

Outside, one street away...

Cal was getting nearer, he could feel it.

 _Ouch!_ The bow tickled him, pointing to the left. And on… and to a building. He examined the sign - "You serious?" he asked the thing.

But the hunch was getting stronger and stronger too; he heard indistinct loud talking and peeked from the shop window into the dimly lit interior, where he could make out several figures, vaguely familiar and… Piper?

Cal cautiously pushed the door open and got in. No one even noticed.

"This is bullshit!"

"Whatcha sayin?"

"...smiling at every breathing -"

"Let's just be reasonable."

It was a cacophony of voices and words, and too many people crammed up in there.

By the entrance Piper's friend was arguing with a short man and gesticulating; it was half English and half Italian swear words - hey, he recognized some of those! - and a big guy stood between them as referee.

The same role was fulfilled by a suit-clad woman of comparable size just a few feet away, where two Latinas were having a close shouting contest (it was a tie from what he could hear).

Weren't all of them snuggled up and happy just two nights ago?

 _Ow!_ the darn pendant was almost burning against his chest, and woow he was feeling really off.

Leaning against a shelf, he caught sight of two black people just intent on looking at the whole scene, and nervously puffing on a pipe; and there was his sister Piper sounding accusatory, with her 'friend' the sexy vampiress and the redhead in a corner, Cal remembered them too, and then an Arabic man who was alternatively nodding and shaking his head.

"Fuu..dge!" the more he heard and saw, the hotter his bow seemed to get, and his senses were all haywire.

What the heck?

He could smell it even… no, not the weed; something fishy was up.

Trudging to the peanut gallery, he tore the pipe from the woman's hand - "Hey man! 'Sup??" - and took a drag.

Haaa. Already slightly better… but not enough.

All the former lovey doveys were still fighting, and his gaze traveled from one pair to the next. These were no normal lovers' squabbles.

What then?

Just the other night… the other night…

The bow burned like crazy.

It was a pendant now, it had been a keychain but since it fell… but did it?

The other night… it had fallen. It had been on the floor. Yes, right, right... after Goodall had been found again.

His little rascal of a daughter, who had disappeared for long minutes and even got out to the terrace all alone…

Was it… what if… a series of images flashed through his mind.

All those couples, his missing daughter, her love for mischief, his missing bow… Cal looked at it. It was glowing with a sinister green light, still burning: What was it trying to tell him?

“You better shut up NOW!”

“If you cared...”

...the couples fighting.

"Oh Tartarus, enough of this." Cal moved towards his sister and clutched her elbow. "Pipes, come now," he ordered authoritative and started pulling.

“Hey Cal, what -”

"You, Piper's friend, come too," his powerful touch seemed to shake the tall Latina.

"And you, gimme a hand!" addressing Cindy, who frowned but felt compelled to move her ass to Lorna, where he had motioned her to.

The small party was out in a moment but he didn't stop till they had reached a small _piazza_ two hundred meters away. The burning had stopped, so had the throbbing in his temples.

He left Piper's arm. She looked a bit dazed, as did Lorna.

The images welded together in a luminous epiphany.

Yeah, he saw then. Some serious shit had gone down, and now there was a pretty nice mess to clean.


	5. Act Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where The Day plays out with its many events; including an unplanned but providential intervention, which bears its fruits.

**Scene I**

_Juliet’s tomb - The garden_

Spooky decorations. Fake thunder. Enter Three Witches.

FIRST WITCH:

Round about the cauldron go,

in the poisoned entrails throw.

Fillet of a fenny snake,

With eye of newt make it bake.

_She elbows the Second Witch._

SECOND WITCH: ( _whispers loudly_ )

Oh, here, take.

ALL:

Double, double, toil and trouble,

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

SECOND WITCH:

And of dragon’s scale this jot,

let it simmer in our charmèd pot.

_She reaches out to the Third Witch._

THIRD WITCH:

Here is our charmèd pot.

_She searches her pockets and hands her a bunch of weed._

SECOND WITCH:

Not _that_ pot, idiot!

_She motions to a copper pot laying under a hedge._

THIRD WITCH:

OOK, sorry! No need to get that hot.

ALL:

Double, double, toil and trouble,

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

FIRST WITCH: ( _sternly_ )

Wool of bat and tooth of Bolshevik,

All this in to give th’hell-broth some kick.

SECOND WITCH:

Finger of birth-strangled babe

Ditch-delivered by a… Crabe! I said babe!

_While trying to cut a doll’s finger, the Third Witch accidentally cuts herself and_

_her fingertip drops in the cauldron._

THIRD WITCH: ( _holding her hand, offended_ )

What you mean, I’m not a babe?

FIRST WITCH:

Sisters! Now you’ll do as I say.

THIRD WITCH:

Sorry, I’m having a hard day!

The Weird Sisters continued bickering some, then moved away and into Juliet’s vault.

The backcloth outside was quickly changed, and they returned and continued their scene.

FIRST WITCH:

When shall we three meet again?

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

SECOND WITCH:

When the hurly-burly’s done,

When the day’s come and gone.

THIRD WITCH:

That won’t be ere the set of sun.

Say around eight and thirty-one.

FIRST WITCH:

Where the place?

SECOND WITCH:

At the theater new.

THIRD WITCH:

There to meet with our crew.

FIRST WITCH:

I come, Grimalkin.

SECOND WITCH:

Paddock calls.

THIRD WITCH:

Anon.

_They wave and bow._

ALL:

Fair is foul, and foul is fair.

Come tonight and try our ware.

And in a cloud of artificial smoke activated by Gina, the audience clapped and cheered, and Red, Gloria and Maritza vanished.

* * *

**Scene II**

_Around town_

Cal had had an intense night, but was now all set for this most crucial day.

First he had to confess to his wife that their daughter had disappeared on him, which caused some tough scolding.

Trying to grill Goodall had been useless, she had admitted to taking the bow but did not remember exactly what she did with it.

So they’d gone back to the fateful restaurant, and Neri’s lockpicking skills had got them to a back office with security tapes; viewing them made everything clear.

There was Goodall around the room attempting to make her huntress doll hold the bow in her little hand, thus accidentally pointing it first at Piper, then at that small Latina; and outside, at Lorna and the other girl: soon after this, all of them had started to go nuts with the people they had been so chummy with.

Finally, once back at the hotel, Cal carried out a thorough inspection of his bow to make sure it had not been permanently damaged - but no, luckily it seemed to be fine. Evidently the malfunctioning had been due to the child’s incorrect handling.

It was also lucky that all the victims were not complete strangers to him, this would make unraveling the messy knot easier.

And that was precisely what he was going to do now.

XXX

_In the courtyard under Juliet’s balcony_

PETRUCHIO:

I tell you, my friend:

O, when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd!

She was a vixen when she went to school;

And though she be but little, she is fierce.

GRUMIO:

You really like her then.

PETRUCHIO:

Ah! That I do.

The big nobleman with the incredible light eyes continued fondling with abandon the right breast of Juliet’s statue, shinier than the other with all the people’s touching. At her-er, _his_ servant’s glance, he explained:

PETRUCHIO:

They say it’s for good luck in love.

Oh! But she comes.

_Katherine and her father looked down from the balcony._

My rose!

KATHERINE:

Katherine’s my name, I’m not one of your wenches.

Katherine looked away from her suitor, and for an instant met the glance of the redhead who was in a hidden corner of the yard. _Yes!_ Now was the chance… she diverted her eyes. Darn.

The man at her side, whose face, though mostly covered by a thick beard, still was too tan not to cast a doubt on his paternity, frowned.

PETRUCHIO:

Behold! Her playful words.

Father, ‘tis thus: yourself and all the world

That talked of her have talked amiss of her.

If she be crust, it is for policy,

For she’s not froward, but modest as the dove.

She’s not hot, but temperate as the moon.

For patience she will prove a second Grissel,

And Roman Lucrece for her chastity.

And to conclude, we have ‘greed so well together

That upon Sunday is the wedding day.

KATHERINE:

I’ll see thee hanged on Sunday first.

She looked heatedly at Nichols again. _Ah! Now._ From behind the watching tourists, Cal cast an invisible arrow straight to the Egyptian actress.

Her eyes widened… yes - she was suddenly realizing how silly her jealousy and their fights of the last few days had been; Nicky was her girl only, and she had proved time and again how genuine her feelings were. She smiled. Nicky jumped in surprise, but after a few moments smiled back, first cautiously, then happier.

PETRUCHIO:

See! She smiles. Start preparing

my best garments, my friend, for Sunday’s near.

Then Grumio-Jones stared at Baptista, Baptista-Maria pinched Shani, and she got back to the role with another scathing remark really directed at Petruchio now, not at her girl anymore.

* * *

**Scene III**

_Juliet’s house_

The ceremony was underway.

At three there had been a poetry reading and music, and now was time for the awards to the winners of the “Cara Giulietta” contest.

The American had already been given her silver artisan charm called _A cuore aperto_ , “Open Heart”, and the beautiful classic Pelikan fountain pen. She was honored to be there and become part of the Shakespeare history, or myth, she said.

Not that Cal was paying much attention: He was completely focused on more important matters.

His wife on his right was also concentrating, and even Goodall, on Neri’s other side, was behaving - perhaps feeling guilty for the problems she had caused.

“ _Grazie ancora_ ,” the Club’s President Mr Caputo repeated. “ _E ora…_ Vincent Muccio!”

More claps, while Piper started accompanying Vinnie to the stand and microphone. She had told Cal that it’d been a last-minute change: Lorna was supposed to do it but had categorically refused to get through with the job, as she “couldn’t even bear the thought of seeing _him_.”

It wasn’t quite true, of course, ‘cause the woman was sitting in a central row with perfect view of the proceedings.

“Anything?” he asked Neri in a mutter.

“Not yet,” she said.

His attention was quite split between Lorna and his sister - for Alex was there among the audience too.

Sexy vampiress must be a glutton for punishment, or maybe she just wanted to spite Piper.

Cal was boring holes in his sister’s head, so much so that she had already arched her brows at him once or twice and imperceptibly mouthed a “What?”.

_Don’t look at me, look at her!_ he wanted to yell. The antidote just wouldn’t work if the eyes of hater and victim didn’t meet.

“Now! Cal!” Neri whisper-shouted.

Oh Tartarus.

In a second he turned to see Lorna, _yay!_ , and did his bow-trick, which to common people would just read like someone fiddling with a keychain or pendant.

The change was immediate: pupils dilating, an incipient blush… yes, nailed it!

Cal turned again, acting as if nothing had happened; Vinnie seemed surprised, then _very_ surprised, and finally relieved and - well, blissful. These people.

But he had to stay focused on the next target, a harder case to crack: Piper.

The blonde had sat again, her back to Alex. This would take some time.

Now the third and last winner was shaking hands with Caputo, the Dominican.

She and her fiancé had not suffered any accidents, that was plain: They had been grinning at each other a few nights ago, and were doing just the same now.

“Thank you again for all of this,” she was taking her gifts, “and _gracias_ to my better half. His name’s Diablo but _I_ am the scary one in this couple!”, they all laughed.

The afternoon was coming to an end.

Piper was mingling with her friends and the letter-writers, more people had approached them to talk.

Alex was pretty insistent in looking at the blonde, but she was blatantly ignoring her.

Cal watched and waited.

After several minutes of this, the woman was evidently fed up; she said something in her friend’s ear, and they moved to leave.

Darn! Stubborn Piper!

Lorna and Vinnie, instead, were busy chatting, her hand on his arm, sparks flying between them: the wicked influence of the mishandled bow had been lifted, and their feelings were restored to what they were before it hit.

So far, so good, Cal though. Now half his job was done; but it certainly wasn’t enough.

* * *

**Scene I** **V**

_Teatro Nuovo_

It wasn’t enough at all - it’d be a pity if those two other pairs stayed separated on Valentine’s Day, and most of it had already gone.

Just having them convene had required some extra effort.

Cal had followed Alex after the ceremony and blatantly lied to her about Piper wanting to meet up and apologize later on.

“Are you sure?” she asked dubious.

“Of course!” he had assured with a big smile and a tiny charming spell; that way he’d been able to give her tickets for the night’s play.

And then, he’d run back to catch Piper with her colleagues and ensure the next part of the plan was being carried out as decided.

Just shy of noon, after seeing the teaser trailer for the night event, Cal had secretly approached Petruchio, recognizing the butch from the cannabis store who'd tried to negotiate peace between the two Latinas.

"Miss Black, a word?" he'd done his homework.

"Yes sir…" she turned. "Oh. We have met before."

Getting her on board had not been too hard: She wasn't convinced it would work, since she didn't really know _how_ he planned to make everything OK, but

"I hate leaving a princess in jeopardy," she said. "Moreover, this one's bitchier than usual these days."

And yes, he found her doing as promised: chatting up Piper and Flaca, and the effects could be inferred from the latter’s stance - from crossed arms and narrowed eyes, gradually moving to gesturing and smiles. Yay!

Finally something passed from Boo to the others’ hands, which meant that _yes_ , success was complete.

Once they discovered the tickets were not a gift and peace offering from certain _Conpany_ ladies, it would be too late anyway.

...and so, here they were now.

Cal had spent quite some money for this trick, but it’d hopefully work.

The play was about to start.

From his seat he could see the stage, Piper and her black and Hispanic friends, and the box nearby where Alex should show up any moment now. Sure. Mh.

“Calm down, she looked convinced you said?” Neri murmured.

“You can do this dad,” Goodall encouraged.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hope so!”

He caught sight of Lorna and his newly found Prince Charming as well; they were whispering close together, the woman was giggling. Yes, sometimes the job could be quite satisfying.

A few minutes after this, the play began.

At first Cal wasn’t paying much attention, but then found he was quite taken by the whirlwind of events.

The small Latina had appeared as a silly version of Titania, but she couldn’t really see the audience in the dark from the lit-up stage.

There was Romeo and Juliet in this too, but - plot twist! - ‘twas the girl and not the boy… OK, so they were all really girls there, but anyway, ‘twas the girl and not the boy who was doing the chasing here.

The Asiatic Juliet was balancing on the capacious shoulders of a black Portia.

JULIET:

A bit more to the left… there!

PORTIA: ( _grumbling_ )

How d’I let her convince me.

JULIET:

You care for your cousin Romeo’s happiness!

PORTIA:

That I do.

JULIET:

And you know I can be it.

PORTIA:

That I doubt.

_Juliet hits her big hair with a heel._

Hey!

_Juliet glares down._

Fiine, fine.

Romeo will drown in delight.

_Enter Romeo on the balcony._

JULIET:

Here he is! Hush now!

_Portia grumbles and Juliet wobbles on her shoulders._

The audience chuckled a bit at this and Cal joined in; Neri hissed at him.

“Heyyy!”

Cal’s gaze moved to his sister - what was she - aah! Alex was in her box, and she was laughing with her friend; _C’mon girl…_ he kept his cool, bow at the ready; it had to be the first time their eyes met, ‘cause who knew what would happen if he didn’t act immediately: Piper might look affronted, instead of apologetic and hopeful or whatever. Then what? Alex would get seriously fed up with her moods and just up and leave, never to be seen again.

“Is Pipes still -”

“Yes,” Neri said, “I’m on it.”

“No, let’s switch. She’s the target.”

“I am watching too!” Goodall chimed in; she really wanted to help.

“Okay, right.”

Piper was still staring. Good. Now if the other one…

“Go go go!” Neri exclaimed, making an elderly couple next to them turn in protest. The arrow was almost leaving his bow, when… darn. Piper’s face turned to her colleague. Pfft.

“Oh,” their daughter deflated.

“Vampiress is surprised,” Neri reported.

“No! Is she leaving?”

“No, she’s just talking to that man. And frowning.”

Right. She must not understand why Piper would invite her there to ‘apologize’, and subsequently behave like this.

“She’s not looking anymore, is she.”

“Nope,” Cal answered.

“Oh Piper... I mean I love your sister, but she’s… y’know.”

“I know.”

“Mmh,” Goodall sounded sorry.

“Alright,” Neri minimized, “it’s just a matter of waiting a bit in the end.”

A bit, right… more or less.

‘Cause for a long act Piper refused to turn at all, while pestering her friends to check on Alex, and not letting anyone in her vicinity enjoy the play.

Then they’d refused to continue with the espionage, and she had to go back to stealing glances at the woman herself.

But when one was looking, the other was not.

And when one started to turn in the right direction, the other rushed back to fake focusing on the stage.

They were both playing hard to get, and the first acts passed like this.

The untamed Shrew, some lovers known and new, a bunch of merry wives came and went on the stage; the frequent laughter spoke of fun and lark, but not for Cal and Neri's enjoyment.

Of _course_ Pipes had to overcomplicate things, her brother thought blinking rapidly.

“I’m gonna have to buy glasses if Piper keeps this up for longer,” Neri lamented during the last break; straining their sight in the dark waiting for their chance was no fun.

“I know,” Cal nodded. “We could get a family discount.” His fingers were starting to cramp from being in the same position on his bow for so long. He shot daggers at his sister. Luckily Goodall had fallen asleep; she was like him, and not even a cannon would wake her up.

“Listen, maybe we could wait till the end and then…”

The blonde turned.

His hand twitched.

He turned to Carmilla.

She was looking too.

Back, forth… back-forth-back-forth... his eyes narrowed, his fingers gripped: the time was NOW.

The arrow shot straight… and the theater was immersed in the dark again.

“NO! What…”

DROMIA OF EPHESUS:

We came into the world like sister and sister…

DROMIA OF SYRACUSE:

And now let’s go hand in hand, not one before another.

_The first Dromia, a slender black girl, jumps._

DROMIA OF EPHESUS:

Wait, what, no! I have no intention of going!

Cal was focusing extra hard, but the sudden disappearance of the light had caught him off guard.

_The second Dromia, a tall, gorgeous black woman, is surprised._

DROMIA OF SYRACUSE:  
Why not?

DROMIA OF EPHESUS:

It’s a lousy party in an institution

that refuses to accept women’s contribution.

Plus, we slaves are only kept around for comic relief.

DROMIA OF SYRACUSE:

Now you say it, sis, I see there’s reason to have beef.

“Hey, you think…” Neri said.

“Wait a sec…”

Piper was looking at the actresses. _C’mon, give me a sign…_

She turned to Alex, and Alex smiled. They didn’t budge an inch and… oooh gross! she licked her lips; Piper giggled: they weren’t _looking_ , they were _leering_.

“Ugh!” Neri covered her face.

OK, great. The antidote had worked.

.

.

.

Three out of four.

For the last one, they’d have to be patient.

At least now they could relax and properly watch the last act; the plot had tickened, till the point when it would all untangle and, hopefully, all the couples would be reunited, the characters happy.

Cal spotted the Dominican woman who’d won the competition with her fiancé, all glued together in two lateral orchestra seats.

Yes, everything would be fine in the end.

Perched on Portia’s shoulders again, Juliet was finally managing to woo and convince Romeo to follow her.

JULIET:

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,

Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,

Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine.

With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.

Would you come ‘n build there a hut f’ two?

ROMEO:

I would not wish any companion in the world but you.

.

.

.

The play had ended.

One by one the actresses had come back on stage, and now they were all there, the audience clapping and cheering.

“Thank you so much.” A woman with a strong, Russian-accented voice said. “It was a pleasure being here,” and they bowed once again.

Flaca was focused on a certain person up there, but though dim lights now made the public visible, she had not been noticed yet. It had been a great show, and she was trying not to expect anything else, but she couldn’t erase the happy and wishful smile from her lips.

“And a shout-out to someone special for tonight,” ‘Portia’ intervened. “She doesn’t want to be named, but Miss S offered some great ideas for a couple o’ scenes we were struggling with. Thanks!” The women on stage yelled supportingly, and if someone had checked a particular box to the center-left they would have seen a black woman with rosy cheeks biting her lower lip while grinning, and her family squeezing her arms and kissing her proudly.

“See ya in NY, we’re back in three months and the theater always needs new disciples!” The big black Portia and her cousin-friend the thin Romeo hip-hip-hoorayed.

“As they all said,” another actress intervened. “And you b -” a colleague by her side elbowed her, and got a glare in return. “- you _beautiful_ people, we in Venice in a few days. Come see us, tell your friends, whateva!”

A smaller Latina in a verdant dress and crown kept on smiling, eyes passing on unknown faces without lingering. Until… they stopped, and opened wider.

_Whoosh_ , a magical object zipped unseen through the air.

Oh.

Bewilderment in chocolate brown, then a hint of a blush and worry - then, gradually, dimples reappeared.

Flaca beamed back and nodded.

Cindy barely stifled a guffaw by her side.

Piper would have shushed her herself, had she not been too busy gaze-f...lirting with Alex.

Cal and Neri breathed a sigh or relief. The sun was down, but now the day was really new: everything restored to the way it was before the undue interference, and from now on, the fate of these people would be in their hands again.

Lorna and Vinnie were still all glowing, and Nichols and Shani on stage were so close they were attached at the hip.

Someone else was blabbering on the microphone about today, Valentine's Day, and love; and the many families and friends, the couples present, old, new or soon-to-be, felt it deep in their hearts and showed it in their eyes.

He could sense it, the job was done.

Cal would never understand how this worked: he had come to solve this situation, but if he had _not_ come, how could Goodall (bless her soul, she was still snoring on her seat), how could their daughter have caused it? It was a paradox, and from _Back to the Future_ onwards, he had never got those.

Neri smiled at him.

It didn’t matter.

No, look around you.

Yes.

Love would soon be back in the air, but right at this moment, it had returned down there amongst them, again, at last.

The actresses bowed one last time; the audience clapped.

_Exeunt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading through the end, and sorry to Orthodox Shakespeareans for the citing and slaughtering.  
> Finally, to every OITNB lover, a very happy Valentine!


End file.
